


Scars

by Luna_Moon22



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [2]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: All I can write is angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on Tumblr, Other, Percy has mortal friends, Percy has scars, Percy is like 16 here, Percy talks about scars he got during the lightning thief, Post New York Battle, Scars, Trust Issues, discussion of scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25760671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luna_Moon22/pseuds/Luna_Moon22
Summary: Ian has always wondered about the scars on Percy Jackson's chest.He regrets asking.
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1857325
Comments: 1
Kudos: 49
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	Scars

"Hey, Percy, where did all those scars come from?"

It's an odd question, to say the least. Well, less of an odd question to come from Ian McHale's mouth and more of an odd situation to be in. The fact that the question even crossed his mind in the first place is odd enough. Very few teenagers have to look at one of their friends' bare torso as they change for gym class and wonder where the giant gashes that cover his chest came from.

Maybe he shouldn't have asked. The thought crosses his mind when Percy Jackson seems to freeze. Shoulders seem to tense and eyes seem to drift far away, as though he's trying to remember something. Or perhaps like he's trying to forget something. Which honestly would be understandable. Those scars look really nasty. Whatever happened to give him marks like that couldn't have been fun.

Ian is just about to say something. Open his mouth and apologize for even asking – seriously, Ian. You should know Percy better than that – before he's interrupted by Percy's awkward laugh. His friend finishes pulling off his bright blue swim-team hoodie and the t-shirt underneath it. The scars that Ian had been asking about are on full display. Nasty. Massive. Some look as though they healed without issue and some look as though they really fought before finally submitting to the whims of Percy's strange healing.

Seriously. They've never seen him get hurt before, and the few times they have seen him get even mildly injured, it's gone by the next day. What's up with that?

"They're some pretty crazy stories." Percy says with his typical sarcastic grin. "Sure you're ready to hear them, Ian? I dunno if you'll even believe them." He sets his hands on his hips, not yet bothering to pull his gym shirt over his head. If there's one word that absolutely cannot be used to describe Percy Jackson, it's ashamed.

"Uh, sure." He blinks. He blinks and does a double take, eyes combing Percy's entire body one more time. Because, as much as he'd never think it the case, his eyes just fed him the information that Percy Jackson's hands are shaking against his own skin.

The idea of Percy Jackson shaking is ridiculous enough on its own. Ian can't think of a single time he's ever seen Percy even slightly afraid. Nervous, maybe. Percy gets nervous before big tests and jumps when his phone rings too loud and always seems like he's looking over his shoulder. He's cautious. Always watches his back, always has the same pen twirling in his hands, always seems like he's ready to get up and _run_ at a moment's notice.

Percy Jackson doesn't shake, though. Never, in the almost year that he's known Percy Jackson, has Ian seen his friend shake.

"I mean, you don't have to–"

"This one came from the Minotaur." Percy's grin almost seems to falter, just slightly, as he raises a hand and points to a mark up near his collarbone. "Got that one when I was 12." He says, almost proudly, but Ian doesn't think the emotion in his friend's voice is meant to be pride. He thinks – his mind won't accept any other explanation – that Percy must be joking. The minotaur? Everyone knows that's just some stupid myth–

"It got me real good with its horns!" Percy's declaration pulls Ian right out of that brief train of thought. Quickly accompanied by the shifting of Percy's hands, pointing to another mark. This one closer to his stomach. "This one came from Echidna and the Chimera. They poisoned me. If you look me up, you'll find out that I was kidnapped when I was 12," He says that so casually, and of course Ian had known about that. Everyone knew about that. But he'd never actually worked up the nerve to ask. "And I blew up the Gateway Arch. That's when I got that. Almost died, too!" He laughs it off like it's no big deal, and Ian thinks he should really start getting them moving.

"Oh, and this one." He points to a scar closer to his hip. "Ares himself gave me this one! I'm really proud of it. I survived a fight with Ares himself!" Percy continues the ridiculous stories as though he's completely serious. Ian thinks that he must have really struck a nerve, if Percy is taking this fake story so far.

"Oh," Ian finally manages to say something before Percy can start on the next mark. The one he was pointing to was on the palm of his hand. Massive. Dark. Old. It had been infected – Ian is sure of that – before it healed. And, honestly, Ian isn't sure that he wants to know the story of that one.

Percy's fingers tremble, and he doesn't seem to have noticed Ian's discomfort. Ian is too fixated on the fact that Percy Jackson is trembling to say much of anything before the story is being told to him.

"This one's from when I was 12, too." He whispers. "A friend of mine poisoned me." He continues, and suddenly his voice doesn't sound so nonchalant anymore. "Well... He wasn't my friend. He betrayed me. Tried to kill me. Wanted..." Percy bites down lightly on his lower lip. "He wanted to do some real bad stuff. But... in the end, he saved me." Percy squeezes his eyes shut, and Ian thinks that he really should have just left the topic alone.

He thinks that he really should have just left the topic alone,

but he can't help but think that... it's the first time he's felt that Percy Jackson has truly trusted him.

"Your friend poisoned you..?" Ian prompts him, and almost immediately regrets it.

Percy almost jerks, as though brought out of a deep train of thought. He pauses. Blinks a few times. Takes a long, deep breath, and raises his head to meet Ian's eyes again. Though, now, this time, they look different. That soft green that typically reminds Ian of the sea seems to have shifted to something darker. Quieter. Lonely and desperate. Maybe something that longs for someone to share itself with, but hides behind the knowledge that it's a burden that must be carried alone.

"Percy–"

"You know I was kidding, right?" Percy's entire being suddenly shifts back to that same ever-sarcastic, fun-loving personality that he's always had. As though he had never played at being serious in the first place. As though this had all been some hilarious joke that they shouldn't even bother remembering.

"C'mon, man," Percy interrupts his train of thought once again. "We're gonna be late for gym." He says with exasperation, as he finally pulls his gym shirt over his scarred torso. Not a word on the topic passes between them, as they make their way out of the locker room and into the gymnasium. Percy doesn't show a single hint of that nervous energy that he had practically been radiating. He grins to greet Hannah and Emma as they approach them, just as he always does.

Yet, something holds in Ian's chest.

Something that tells him that, those few moments, that trembling in Percy's fingers, is the most honest that Percy Jackson has ever been with him.

Something that tells him that, whatever it is that haunts the guy who he'd call his best friend, is something that he'll never truly understand.

Or maybe Percy just doesn't trust him enough to let him understand.


End file.
